


Invincible

by withcoffeespoons



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew, Gen, M/M, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 17:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9195773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withcoffeespoons/pseuds/withcoffeespoons
Summary: Gavin thought it was maybe the worst gift in the history of gifts.





	

Gavin had a gift.

It was why he was particularly good at what he did, why when things were at their most dire, Geoff could fall back on him.

Gavin thought it was maybe the worst gift in the history of gifts.

Negotiation was a skill, something he’d learned after years of doing it. It was all about holding your cards, misdirection, reading your opponent. (In a negotiation, anyone else was an opponent, even an ally, even your own crew. Anyone you couldn’t be 100% accountable for could work against you.)

Most people didn’t know that. Oh, the big names did, the heavy hitters in the business. The figureheads Gavin usually worked with face to face. But the hired muscle, the ones who came along for the ride? They were as open to Gavin as a neon sign.

Usually it didn’t take much. A little nudge of thought, a flicker of his eyes, and he could get into their heads.

It was easy when they thought they had nothing to show. You show up with a gun and look menacing toward the shiny man with a gob that didn’t quit, and that’s your job. It doesn’t matter that you know who your guy’s working for. That you know the routes, that you’ve had guard duty at the crew’s base three nights a week for the last two months.

So Gavin can fail to work something out with the big guy, and he comes back home with a working floor plan and a way in. Easy in, easy out, and no one knows how the Fake AH did it. How they  _ kept _ doing it.

Thing was, it was only easy when people weren’t guarded, weren’t careful. Every once in a while, Gavin found himself going toe-to-toe with someone who knew what they were doing, who was careful not to give anything away, not even a thought.

That was harder. That took focus, took effort. It was more than just a smile and a hint, and more than that, it was painful, dangerous.

Gavin never went alone—that was just good sense. He had Ryan or Michael at his back, sometimes Jack. On the important ones, Geoff was there to do the talking, and Gavin was there as a flashy distraction. Ray had never been good at that stuff; he’d been better watching the door for if and when things went wrong. Now Jeremy—

Jeremy was still new, but Gavin trusted him with his life. It should have been frightening how quickly he’d gotten there, but the kid knew what he was doing, and more than that, he had a smokescreen of false confidence and a destructive streak a mile long. Gavin knew what that was like; he reveled in it.

Around Jeremy, Gavin felt invincible. It was what Geoff called A Problem. It was what Gavin called Bloody Destiny. Like him and Michael making it this far without blowing each other up with brilliant (if imperfect) ideas.

So Gavin overreached. It was what he did. He wanted to impress, wanted to succeed. He wanted to show off, that was just who he was, and Jeremy brought it out in him like no one else.

So he tried too hard. For the first time, he had Jeremy at his back, and negotiations were going...just alright. The guy was above their paygrade, and his goons were good. Way too good.

There was something more going on here. It wasn’t what it looked like, and Gavin was going to find out why.

Except he could feel the usual migraine pushing back. He could feel his bones trembling as he tried to ram through the resistance.

“Gavin?”

He could taste blood.

“Gav!”

His legs gave out from under him.

He heard the cocking of a gun, and his heart settled somewhere behind his liver, where maybe it wouldn’t get shot.

He pushed a little harder and his vision went white, his head splitting. He heard voices. Shouting, then three rapidfire gunshots.

Then he was waking up. That had to be good news, right?

He was sticky and sweaty and he knew that smell. Blood. Had he been shot?

He didn’t feel like he’d been shot. He’d been shot enough times to have a reference point. This just felt like the worst hangover of his life.

“Shit,” he groaned. It was an excellent occasion for profanity.

_ Jeremy _ , he remembered.

“Fuck,” he revised.

It hurt to open his eyes, but he needed to know if Jeremy was okay. If that was  _ his _ blood. The thought threatened to turn Gavin’s stomach.

“You asshole,” Geoff said fondly. “How many times have we fucking talked about forcing yourself into somebody’s head?”

Oh.  _ Oh _ . That made sense.

“Geoff,” Gavin whined. “Is Jeremy—”

“I’m here,” Jeremy said, his voice shaking a little. Gavin searched the bright room until he saw Jeremy wilted in the corner, a blanket thrown across his shoulders. But he looked whole, just a smear of blood on his shoulder.

“Lil J,” Gavin managed. “You’re not—”

“He’s fine,” Geoff snapped. “Just a little shaken up because  _ someone _ didn’t tell him one of the most important fucking secrets he has!”

Jeremy didn’t  _ know _ . After everything they’d been through, after everything Gavin had done with Jeremy at his side, Jeremy still didn’t know—because Gavin hadn’t thought to  _ tell _ him.

“I...I thought you’d’ve told him.”

Geoff frowned, ignoring Gavin’s answer. “You better have had a damn good reason for pushing yourself until you  _ passed out _ like that.”

“Oh! Fakehaus,” Gavin said. “They’re going after Fakehaus. They don’t want us to know because they still wanted the weapons deal.”

“Shit,” Geoff said, running a tired hand over his face. “I’ll get Willems on the phone.”

“Say hi to Elyse for me.”

Geoff flipped him off as he left the room.

Jeremy stayed behind, inching closer to Gavin’s bed. “You’re really okay?” he asked. Gavin found it ironic that the same question rested on the tip of his tongue.

“Had hangovers worse.” He smiled to put Jeremy at ease.

Jeremy didn’t smile back. “Your nose was bleeding and you just...collapsed. I thought you were having a stroke or something.”

Gavin didn’t tell him, but technically, he was at greater risk of a brain aneurysm. But he hadn’t had one yet, right, so he figured he was doing alright for himself.

“I kinda panicked.”

“I heard gunshots,” Gavin said.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, frowning like he was disappointed in himself. “Pretty sure I fucked up our chances for striking a deal with that guy.”

“Screw that. Got what we came for.”

Jeremy laughed humorlessly. “Good thing, too, because they’re all kinda dead.”

“Jeremy.” Even to his own ears, he sounded reverent. “You slaughtered a room full of people... _ for me _ ?”

Jeremy’s face flushed. “It was three guys, I could’ve taken them without a gun.”

He gave a self-deprecating smile, but to Gavin, it was just kind of...hot. Gavin reached out for him, and Jeremy came to his side, clutching his arm.

“You can really read minds?” Jeremy asked.

“Kind of. It’s complicated.”

“So...can you tell what I’m thinking right now?”

“Do you want me to?”

Jeremy’s expression was wide open, and it would have been easy, Gavin could tell.

“I think I'd rather know what  _ you're _ thinking.”

Around Jeremy, Gavin felt invincible.

He reeled Jeremy in by his hand and pressed his lips to the man’s knuckles.

Jeremy’s expression blanked for a moment and Gavin worried he'd made two big mistakes in one day.

Then a slow smile spread across Jeremy’s face. What did he say, bloody destiny.


End file.
